


It's Been Too Long

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [294]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, And Says He's Putting Together a Crew, Heist, M/M, Magic, Reunions, When the Ex Calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 14:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20211601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: “I thought we weren’t speaking.”“Aren’t we?”“I thought,” Loki said very slowly into the receiver, “that, in actual fact, I forbade you in the strongest possible terms ever to contact me again.”





	It's Been Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I found out you’re running a heist group like in Ocean’s 11 and I’m not necessarily saying I want in but I am saying that I already planned the next job pack your bags we’re going to florida. Prompt from this [generator](https://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

“I thought we weren’t speaking.”

“Aren’t we?”

“I thought,” Loki said very slowly into the receiver, “that, in actual fact, I forbade you in the strongest possible terms ever to contact me again.”

“Oh,” the voice on the other end of the line drawled, “I don’t think so. That’s not how I remember it at all.”

“How many brain cells have you managed to destroy with drink over the last five years, do you think? Surely they number in millions. So I’m not surprised your memory isn’t up to snuff.”

“It’s not my memory that’s failing, Lolo. It’s time, distance, and frankly unwarranted bitterness that’s clouding yours. As I recall, the last time we saw each other, neither of us was wearing much and you pretty damn clingy.” Tony Stark chuckled, a sound that had once been familiar. “_Don’t go, darling_. _ Catch the next flight, my dearest love_. Any of that ring a bell?”

“No, it does not,” Loki hissed, because it surely fucking did. “I’m sure I never said anything so soppy to you at any point, ever.”

A snort. “Only every time my cock was inside you.”

“Can we--!” He pinched the bridge of his nose and regretted with every fibre of his being turning away from his tea to pluck the receiver from its cradle and proffer a polite _ Hello? _ “Can we stick to the matter at hand, please?”

“Which is what?”

“Which is why the hell you’re on my phone, Tony.”

He could hear the grin from 3000 miles away, could picture the insolent stretch. “Ah,” Tony said, “so your question--the thing you can’t figure out, the sole reason that you’re still deigning to talk to me--is why I called you, isn’t it? No, no, don’t bother not answering. I know it is.”

Loki should have hung up the second he’d heard Tony’s voice. But he hadn’t. And now look at this goddamn mess: his head hurt and his stomach felt sour and there was a concomitant fizz in his blood, something snappy and not quite forgotten that was making his heart shiver and bump. “Either tell me this instant,” he said, “or shut up and ring off.”

“I’m putting together a crew,” Tony said. “There’s a job out in Chicago. Good money, fair amount of risk, and very high stakes. And I want you.”

“No, you don’t.” The words tasted like vinegar. “You want my abilities. That’s not quite the same thing.”

“Of course I want your abilities! But these days, magicians are a dime a dozen. No offense.”

“Offense most certainly taken.”

“Look, Lo, I know a lot of abracadabras, ok? And they all charge a lot less than you do, which I am well aware means that they’re a lot less talented than you.”

“I don’t do that kind of work anymore. You must remember me telling you that.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

Tony sighed. “Because this is the score of a lifetime, no joke. You run this job with me, you’ll never have to work again.”

Loki scowled into the receiver. “I don’t have to work now.”

“You’ll want a piece of this one.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Oh, yes you will.”

“Do you know,” Loki said, irritation like pepper in his teeth, “that of all the things that made us totally unsuitable for one another, your never-ending smugness ranks very bloody high. Stop acting like you know me, Stark. You don’t.”

“Maybe not now. I did once, though. There was time when I knew you better than anyone in the world, Loki. You told me that. In Paris, remember? That little place just down from the Champs D'Elysee. You dragged me there after that bait-and-switch we ran in Rome--when was that? ‘48?”

“No.” Loki closed his eyes and did not remember the aging bed, the walls filled by faded paper, the smell of cigarettes and of Tony’s body and of the cheap, lovely wine with which they’d stained the sheets. “‘49.” 

“Mmm, so it was.” A pause, then a whisper: “We were so good together back then, you know?”

Back then, it’d had felt like forever, what was happening between them. The war was over and Europe was stumbling out of the darkness and it had been, Loki thought, a hell of a perfect time to be alive--especially with a man like Tony Stark at his side: smart as hell and a quick tongue that could rival Loki’s and a smile that set off sparks in every room. They’d met in London in ‘46 trying to filch the same diamonds and found no small delight in discovering they had the same niche. Together, Tony’s wiles and Loki’s spellwork had made them _ tres formidable_, on the job at first, then in bed, and by the time they scurried off to Paris in ‘49 with former Fascist spoils sewn into the linings of their coats, Loki had been mad with it, love.

Love was easy when the money was flowing; when it stopped, when the years had gone lean and Loki’s past life had come calling--well. Not so much.

“Anyway,” Tony said into the silence. “Loki, look, I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t think this gig would have a certain appeal to you personally. I’m not--it’s been a long goddamn time, ok? This wasn’t the easiest phone call for me to make.”

“What made you set aside your trepidation, then?”

“The ID of the mark.”

“Which is?”

“Your brother, believe it or not.”

Loki sat up with a start. “My--!”

“I’ve sent a wire. Used one of the old codes. Take a look and tell me what you think. But don’t take too long. Job’s in a week. If you’re coming, you should leave tonight.”

“Tony--”

A hum. “Nope. Read the wire. If you’re interested, we’ll talk. If not...I’m not sorry I called. It was damned good to hear your voice again. It’s been too long.”

Then Loki was listening to dead air and his teacup was on the floor, dashed, and he thought, for the first time in a long time: _Tony, darling--what the fuck_?

**Author's Note:**

> Is this the first time I've written Frostiron? I believe it is! Huh. I like these two together, I think.


End file.
